


Little Things

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [30]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Mako Mori, Asexual Newton Geiszler, Asexuality, Birthday, Birthday Presents, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mako Mori-centric, Raleigh Becket & Mako Mori Friendship, can be platonic or romantic you choose, i have a lot of hills to die on huh, the drift is not inherently romantic and i will die on this hill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23804116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Mako is not one for celebrating birthdays. She does not need an extravagant affair to turn another year older.Those close to her show their affection in smaller ways.
Relationships: Mako Mori & Stacker Pentecost, Newton Geiszler & Mako Mori, Raleigh Becket & Mako Mori, Raleigh Becket/Mako Mori
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> yes I know i'm late for this week of appreciating our QUEEN I'M SORRY i hope this makes up for it
> 
> more ace mako because yes

Fandom: Pacific Rim

Prompt: Mako Mori Appreciation Week Day 5 (Birthday)

* * *

Mako did not understand the penchant people had for celebrating their birthdays past their teenage years. It was not a unique celebration; with only a limited number of says in the year, it was inevitable that you would share a birthday with someone else. The day was no different than any other to the people who surrounded you. And, Mako had to confess, she did not wish to be the center of attention in that way. Being born was not the sort of accomplishment she wanted to be known for.

Mako did not ‘celebrate’ her birthday in the traditional sense of what this celebration looked like. She had no party, there was no singing, and she liked it that way.

Of course, she could not escape completely from the giving of gifts.

It was from Sensei that Mako learned how to live practically, putting needs above wants, duty above all else. Once she had her epiphany about birthdays, she informed Sensei that the little cakes and stories he provided in the past would no longer be necessary. She thought he would be pleased. The door opening that night startled her more than she would like to admit.

“May I come in, Mako?”

“Yes, Sensei.” Mako stood, hands clasped behind her back, her young twelve years belying none of their inexperience. “How may I help you?”

Sensei did not come all the way in, Mako noticed. Instead, he lingered by the doorway, turning the object in his fingers over and over.

“It’s your birthday,” he began.

“Yes.”

“I would like to give you something.”

Mako frowned. “But I have expressed that I do not need anything.”

“I understand.” Sensei came closer, beckoning Mako to sit on the bed next to him. “But a birthday is not just for the person turning older. It is for their family to show how much they love them.”

Mako turned the idea over in her head. “So…you wish to give me something to show how much you love me?”

“Yes, Mako. That is all.” Sensei rested some of his weight against her, encouraging her to lean into him to support them both. “There will be no other celebrations if you do not want them, but let me show you in this way.”

Mako looked up into Sensei’s warm eyes and nodded, feeling for the first time that day a rush of security.

“I will gratefully accept any gift you give me,” she murmured, “ _arigato,_ Sensei.”

Sensei holds up the object. Mako recognizes it now. It is a worn book of Japanese children's stories. When she was younger, it had been her favorite. Sensei used it to help himself learn Japanese when he first adopted her.

“May I read to you, Mako?”

Every birthday, Mako has fallen asleep to the sounds of Sensei’s voice reading the story of Peach Boy Momotaro.

Newt did not talk about birthdays either.

From their conversations together, she learned about what the day has meant for him in the past and she understands why he does not wish to celebrate it. In turn, he does not ask questions when she never discusses the idea of a birthday celebration. He _does_ listen when she wishes to talk about what Sensei told her, that a birthday is an opportunity to show someone how much you love them. She asks permission to give Newt one small gift as a token.

“Sure, I mean, if you really want to,” Newt stuttered amidst the mess of his desk, “I, uh, yeah. I’d like that.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, uh, does that mean I get to do the same?” Newt gestured to her. “Give you something small on your birthday to show how much you mean to me?”

“…if you would like.”

“Cool.”

The first of his gifts fit neatly into a small cardboard box. Newt set it down on the least disorderly corner of his desk, stripping off his gloves to open it carefully.

“Whoa…” Newt held the item aloft, flipping it over and over in his hands. “Is this a recorder?”

“You have mentioned that writing things down takes too long,” Mako explains, “and that when you are successful you cannot translate your handwriting later.”

“Dude, this is awesome!” Newt engulfs Mako in an enthusiastic hug. Privately, Mako wonders if she can convince him that _this_ makes a perfect gift. “Oh, I’m gonna be so much more productive!”

Mako giggles as he clicks it on immediately and starts rambling. There is something very satisfying about watching someone be very good at something. From then on, whenever she sees him, he has the recorder in his pocket.

Her favorite gift from him fits in a small gift bag. She opens it carefully, drawing out a long chain with a tiny pendant swinging from the end.

“You said you can’t wear a lotta stuff ‘cause of your work,” Newt said, swinging his legs from his perch atop a cabinet, “but this’ll fit under your clothes and won’t be a nuisance.”

Mako ran her fingers over the tiny asexual pride flag. It nestled safely under her jacket, as Newt predicted. Another piece of armor slotted into its place. She does not feel it when she hugs Newt in thanks except for the barely noticeable difference in weight around her neck. She does not take it off except when absolutely necessary.

Raleigh never talks about birthdays.

In fairness, they are co-pilots. They do not need to talk about much. But it does not go unnoticed by the two of them that whenever either’s birthday rolls around, not much happens. Raleigh will go out for a long walk by himself, to people-watch, he explained, and come back with his Ghost Drift glowing pleasantly in the backs of their minds. Mako receives little things on her doorstep or passed into her hands that make her smile to herself before tucking them away into their own corners.

It is her first birthday after the rift closes. Raleigh takes her hand and pulls her up to the roof of the Shatterdome.

The lights of Hong Kong are bright enough to dim the skies above, leaving them cloaked in purple darkness. Raleigh does not let go of her hand when they sit down against the railing.

“Happy birthday, Mako.”

“Thank you.”

“I, um,” Raleigh starts, scratching the back of his head, “I’m sorry I haven’t been getting you anything.”

She shakes her head. “That is fine. You do not need to.”

“But other people get you things,” he argues, “aren’t you at least a little curious why I don’t?”

Mako thinks. “Birthdays are an opportunity to show someone how much you care for them.”

“I don’t need one special day to remind me to do that,” Raleigh says, bumping their shoulders together, “but I _did_ get you something.”

Mako feels something soft being pressed into her hands. She looks down.

“Is this…”

“Yeah,” Raleigh laughs, “Newt’s had some free time on his hands and there’s apparently no shortage of scrap fabric ‘round here.”

Mako holds up a plush version of their Jaeger no longer than her forearm. She can see the Jaeger’s helmet, the little slots for the sword, the chest piece covering the nuclear reactor. With shaking fingers, she unlatches the little strip of velcro holding it shut to reveal the heart.

Written in tiny black stitches across the core are the words: _You can always find me in the Drift._

She feels Raleigh’s apprehension, hoping she likes the gift. The plush gets squished between them as she tackles him onto the roof, laughing breathlessly at the immensity of this gift.

“So you like it,” she hears Raleigh chuckle.

“Yes,” she breathes into his ear, “yes, yes, thank you, this is the most wonderful gift.”

“I’m glad.” His arms wrap around her tightly, squishing the plush even further. “I’ll pass it on to Newt.”

“No, I can tell him.” Mako reaches between them, groping until she meets the warm softness of the fabric, pulling it out to keep admiring it over Raleigh’s shoulder.

“Look,” she giggles, lining it up with the skyline, “it is where we were.”

Sure enough, silhouetted against the glowing buildings, it looks just like the battle against Otachi and Leatherback.

“We should get Newt to make the whole fleet,” Raleigh agrees.

“There are more birthdays to come.”

A gentle finger turns her head. She looks to see Raleigh staring at her, wave after wave of affection crashing through the Drift.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “there are.”

He shifts closer. “Can I stay with you for them?”

Mako smiles. “I would like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine. 
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


End file.
